Tangled Up In Blue
by PositiveAnarchy
Summary: Eugene helps Rapunzel adjust to the chaos of the world through his favorite book, "The Adventures of Flynnigan Rider". But will these lessons be enough for Eugene's growing "needs" and the pressures of a princess? A Bob Dylan-influenced tale. xx
1. Seeing the Real You At Last

_All words below are the property of Disney and its subsidaries. No copyright infringement was intended. Thank you._

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><p><strong>"<strong>_**But all the while I was alone, **__**  
><strong>__**The past was close behind.**__**  
><strong>__**I seen a lot of women,**__**  
><strong>__**But she never escaped my mind.**__**  
><strong>__**And I just grew…**__**  
><strong>__**Tangled up in Blue…"**__**  
><strong>_  
><em><strong>-<strong>__Bob Dylan_

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><p><em>She had requested to be near the earth, in a room close to the grass, to the water, to the soil and hubris and humanity that breathed beneath her toes. She was not escaping one tower only to be shuttered away in another. It was hard for her parents to comprehend; in their world, to be sheltered was just a place. Their status allowed a certain luxury, of fantastic views and balconies overlooking Corona and ruling from on-high. Their daughter's room had remained untouched for eighteen long years, waiting so keenly for her warmth to return to the four-poster bed. How could they understand the utter suffocation of the stone walls? The odd vertigo she would experience peering out the bay window, clutching for phantom hair to anchor her, to catch her fall? No, she could not reside in the penthouse, not now at least. She needed to be grounded.<em>

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><p>The first week out of isolation was, in a word, utterly overwhelming for Rapunzel. She didn't exhibit the usual signs of duress one may expect, however, from such overstimulation-no sobs of glee or terror, no foetal positions or raving spasms of madness. This was a testament, perhaps, to how much she had grown since the nascent leap from her tower, where the mere caress of grass blades or expanse of road made adrenaline cackle in her veins. She was still expressive, no doubt about that-eagerly bounding from one sensation to the next, whether it included baking dozens-upon-hundreds of pink frosted cupcakes (each with a particular name and personality) in the palace's cavernous kitchens, or sparking an impromptu game of hide-and-seek with the royal guard, bewildering the men as she jumped out of crevices and chests and barrels, and one time, an actual Han Dynasty vase. She would even affectionately refer to the antique as a "<em>humping<em>", in her delightful mispronunciation of new words that caused many to glare or giggle in reaction (due to ignorance, most likely, Eugene mused; how many people even cared what a hunping was, save Goldie?) Even in this constant stream of curiosity and pleasure and discovery, Rapunzel softly began to become less and less vibrant with every successive moment. Each night she would collapse, exhausted and drained, in her reading chair, a book sprawled on her lap, eyes fluttering in such a gentle way it took everything Eugene had to keep from peppering her with butterfly kisses as he would douse the lamps and cover her in blankets. Someone had to notice these things.

Yet, it seemed neither her parents nor anyone in the damned establishment really did. How do you show someone life, when all they've known were mere facets? Eugene pondered this, slouch-leaning nervously against a column, half-shaded by darkness. Not since his orphan days, and the years of thievery "_apprenticeship_" (even Flynn Rider was a tyro at one point), had he felt so invested, so conflicted, so…prone to contemplation. He was itching now, with the beginning of a headache-all this worry was atypical for his system. He needed a plan. He needed to help settle Rapunzel before she exploded or withered away. He needed…a cold drink.

A shadow rose slowly on the opposing wall, slanted from the torchlight down the hall. Eugene tensed. He was outside Rapunzel's room, and although he had never been explicitly told to "_stay away_" from said chambers, it was still but a mere week into this unfathomable gig. The tenuous terms of his pardon meant little to the royal guards; best to not tip-toe the line of sticky situation too much. He stole behind the column, prepared to see the grizzled, hairy faces of two night guards, when the steps became less pronounced, more light.

"Eugene?" the whisper was light and airy. Rapunzel, he breathed.

"Ah, I found you!" She abandoned the quietness as she engulfed him in a fierce hug, her eyes heavy and shadowed from lack of sleep. Eugene tousled her hair gently, feeling the softness wave from the roots. It was still spectacular. She pulled away from his grasp with a blush.

"I'm sorry…I know it's way past my bedtime, but…" She looked so, so tired, biting her lip with sad eyes. She had been going non-stop the past week, how her tiny frame could manage, Eugene couldn't comprehend.

"Eugene, could we talk?"

"Blondie, we're talking right now."

"Somewhere else? Your room? Please, I just…I don't want to be alone tonight."

Damn those eyes, those pools, that little twinkle. She grabbed his hand and tore him away, down the spiral staircases and through corridors and passages and marbled halls. Down to the courtyard, past the dangling shadows of Spanish moss, to Eugene's personal quarters. His accommodations for the moment were really one of the guest rooms, set aside for visiting dignitaries or diplomats-gorgeous, but removed from the heart of the palace. From any sense of permanence. Eugene tried not to dwell on what this meant; he had never had such luxurious arrangements before, and anxiety would only ruin the pleasure. They were inside now, the door shuttered and Rapunzel nervous and fidgeting on his bed, her hands tugging the duvet as he lit the lamps, bringing her into better light. She hadn't even changed out of her dress; just removed the corset, looking loose and tired, as tired as when he lay her down quietly hours before. Seeing her fierce spirit so vulnerable softened his face, as Eugene sat down, her head leaning against his shoulder, turned inward as if to lightly nuzzle.

"You smell different." Her voice was smooshed. Eugene raised an eyebrow.

"Like a ponce, right? I've taken more baths this week than my entire life! They scrubbed with at least five kinds of slimy soap. I don't want to know the ingredients, but they were pretty…nice. Nicer on you, probably." He nudged her chin gently with his thumb; she wasn't in a silly mood.

"You smell like everyone else, I guess. Just on top though." She nuzzled in a bit deeper, and Eugene suppressed a slight shiver. "Underneath it's like when we first met. Like…how the sun smelled. And wet hair." He tried to take this as a compliment; Rapunzel found weird things pleasurable.

"Goldie, you said you needed to talk? Is this about my cleaning habits? Because if so, that could wait until morning, rest makes your nose less wacky, I may have read that in an almanac once…"He stopped. His shirt was damp, Rapunzel's tears pouring forth now, as she sniveled and sobbed into his sleeve. It was worrisome, so he clutched her tighter.  
>"Rapunzel?"<p>

"Eugene…I'm sorry, but I don't know what's wrong really and I don't know who to talk you and oh! I think I should talk to the queen…my mother, I mean. Moth…_Gothel_, I always told her things, and if not, I would ask Pascal, or read a book. But even books don't have…information or data on…_this_."She was sniffling again. "Feelings aren't really in the dictionary. Is that because no one else feels them exactly the same way? I just feel this big, _great_ pressure all the time, like my chest is too tight. There's a lot to being a princess, you know. You have to walk a certain way, speak in a certain tone, and practice strange habits. It's as if each day were a play, like the puppet show we saw on my birthday…but I don't know my lines or what scene I'm in, and my jokes aren't even funny. I'm a terrible puppet, Eugene." She blubbered quietly, stopping finally for breath. It seemed Eugene's assumptions were…rightfully assumed. Shit.

He stroked her head, biting his cheek in frustration.

"Darling, breath. What you accomplished this week was…remarkable. You just met the world in a flash! The rest of us riffraff take _lives_ to do that, and still can't do it with the same poise or…joy that you do." Rapunzel smiled sadly at this. "You even got me to play hopscotch and bridge and a million other card games I hardly knew existed."

"Or were hardly very good at." Rapunzel giggled now, wiping her eyes. "I made them up, to play with Pascal. He's quite the card-shirt, if you must know."

"Card_-shark_, dear. Or rather, card-frog."

"But what about the court ladies? I don't think they like me; I can never join in their conversations, they just seem to…_complain_ and whisper secrets all the time. They say I ask too many questions. So I've learned to keep them inside, for later, to write down and search for in the dictionary or these things called Encyclopedias…father said they were "_extensive_". Or to ask the que…_mother_. Or you." Eugene put a finger to her lips, hushing her before she got worked up again.

"Those _court-bitches_ just don't know the answers probably, and hate for you to see all the air in their heads." Rapunzel looked suddenly alarmed at this statement, as if the women were really balloons that would pop with the slightest bit of curiosity. "I know how hard it's been. Well, I don't, but I can see how difficult it is and understand why you feel so confused. I think…I think I'm going to speak to your mother tomorrow, if they'll allow me. See what they can do about the pace of activities, and maybe getting you into some form of school?" Rapunzel brightened at this. She had liked touring the church school the best during her second day reintegrated into the palace; the children all eager and encouraged to ask questions, with all those books and art supplies. It was something she had never conceived of in the tower…and yet, it felt so fabulous.

"School." She whispered. There'd be less people there, and all her inquiries could be analyzed, like lessons. Still…even that would feel so new. So foreign. She whimpered a little.

"Eugene…that's great. Thank you, really. But…I'm not nearly clever enough to go with other girls my age. I think. If they still have school for people like me, at my age. And wouldn't it be wrong to go with the younger…children?" Eugene pressed his forehead against hers, breathing her in. She shivered, as he clutched her closer, making her warmer, more stable.

"I don't know Goldie." His eyes were closed. "but you're not dumb. The queen will arrange something. It's more important that there's someone…who will respect you. Listen to you. Take it slow without boring you and your fucking quick way of catching on to things. Someone…"

"Like you!" Rapunzel brightened, as if she had found the key. Eugene looked suddenly sick.

"Bad, _bad_ idea. I am the worst example to follow. I never went to school! Real, proper school anyway. I'm good at stealing and lying and being despicable…and fantastically handsome." Rapunzel giggled. "But…_book smarts_? _Life smarts_? You'd be consulting a loser, darling. And frankly, that ol' captain would just think I was corrupting you."

"What if I want to be corrupted?" She looked so earnest, and sultry, at once. Eugene gulped. Did she even realize the implications of what she just uttered?

"You don't. Corruption leads to empty stomachs and jail time." He waggled his eyebrows at her, so she wouldn't become upset and remember how close he was to…never mind. "You're going to become something awesome, like an artist or a star-scientist or a frog and cupcake expert."

"Those exist?"

"Now they do. You need someone wise and brilliant. Not me. Not a thief whose sole source of knowledge came from a cheap, mass-produced adventure novel." He kissed her then, gently on the forehead, as if to try and bring closure to the discussion. But Rapunzel untangled herself from his grasp, and walked over to the window, nervously pulling at her hair. She was lost in thought.

"Rapunzel…what is it? Don't like the plan?"

"No, no…I do. But I still think…I still want _you_. Maybe you could teach me all the things you know. Like how to make people smile, or how to be sneaky. So I can come here more often!" She was so fucking adorable. He launched off his bed and caught her up in a great embrace, smelling her hair, her scent. She idolized him and he was terrified, terrified, that one day she would see she was so wrong. Terrified that his plan for her to get more comfortable would suddenly make her realize he was nothing in this world, terrified she would become the princess and see a sea of possibilities…and he wasn't necessary. But he couldn't deny her this opportunity, couldn't deny her…happiness and comfort. Maybe he was getting soft, or their adventure had shifted him, but for once, his fears and worries weren't taking precedence. Rapunzel needed a real tutor.

"Goldie, I'll teach you whatever I can. Just don't be upset when all it turns out to be are a few bad jokes and re-enactments of Flynnigan Rider…wait." He breathed, and loosened his grip on her, suddenly struck by an idea. Rapunzel needed grounding, needed something to frame and put into context all these experiences. When he was a kid, what helped him understand the world the most?  
>Books. He could show her books, show her his book, and maybe, just maybe, help her grasp the chaos of life just a little better. He gazed down at her wide, bright eyes, so green and yearning. Made him smile. At worse, it would give him an excuse to press his body against hers, talk with her alone, see her approving gaze for that much longer. He was capable.<p>

"Blondie, I have a plan!" He swept her up giggling, unto the bed as he reverted to his Flynn Rider persona, roguish and showing off. "Babe, let's strike a deal…if you promise you work hard and enjoy your education from the experts during the week, I promise you I will teach you the depths of my knowledge…or shallows, to some, from the pages of my favorite novels…The Adventures of Flynnigan Rider!" She squealed with delight, pulling him down with a oomph! Onto the duvet, tickling and giggling into his beard.  
>"Yes, oh yes, Eugene! I would <em>ADORE<em> story time! We could even dress up…as princesses or pirates or leprechauns!" She liked leprechauns. And gypsies. And probably unicorns, once she discovered them. Eugene had hit the jackpot here. "But when shall we start? Tonight, oh please?"  
>He laughed, ruffling her hair and grazing her side with his finger. God, what he wanted for tonight…<p>

"I'm afraid not dear. You are up so late, and still tuckered. You would doze off through the first tale. Besides, I don't have a copy yet. I say we get you back upstairs to your room so Pascal isn't too worried and you can up in time for breakfast. Deal?"

She sighed into his arms, as he scooped up her small body and pressed it gently against his chest. She was smiling contently, eyelids resigned and heavy as he stepped back out of the chilly courtyard and up the steps, trying not to cross paths with the guards. He could hear her whisper though, as they approached her hall.

"One day Eugene, my room will be on the ground…right next to yours…and the library…and a garden. No more towers for me, no more…"

He looked at her sleepy form with a hint of sadness.

"I promise…" he murmured to empty ears, her breathing steady and drawn out now. "No more, ever again. You'll be grounded soon, my princess. I just don't know if I can do it."

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><p><strong>A.N.: Thanks for reading my tale! The story will be heavily influenced by Bob Dylan's lyrics and songs. Why? Because what is more bizarre than Tangled and Bob Dylan's hoarse genius combined?<strong>

**Kudos to anyone who recognizes the albums each chapter title comes from. Reviews are always welcome!**

**~hippie**


	2. As I Went Out One Morning

**_All words below are the property of Disney and its subsidaries. No copyright infringement was intended. Thank you._**

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><p><strong>"As I went out one morning,<strong>  
><strong>To breathe the air around Tom Paine's<strong>  
><strong>I spied the fairest damsel,<strong>  
><strong>That ever did walk in chains."<strong>

**-**Bob Dylan, "_As I Went Out One Morning_"

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><p>Establishing a meeting with the King and Queen would be far more difficult than Eugene initially conceived. Even his <em>"insider<em>" status as legitimate hero and ward of the palace afforded little access- in fact, it almost seemed easier these days to be removed from the royalty as much as possible, if desiring a visit. The couple had been busy with official functions and festivals commemorating Rapunzel's return, and seemed always away preceding over some far flung parade or party. He had only been in the same room as the couple a few times that week-the brilliant, dream-like introduction, embrace and reprieve (how he had trembled, holding Rapunzel there, not truly understanding why he had followed her back to the palace, back to her dream, at risk of losing her forever. How he trembled, when the Queen beckoned to him, not for admonishment, but for warmth and inclusion. It was a truly remarkable moment), a few meals and one awkward meeting with the king regarding his royal pardon. Really, Eugene had no business pacing like a mad man in front of the main chambers this time of morning; but frankly, he had little choice. He had to do this for Rapunzel.

"You there, you uncouth creature! _Yes,_ you with the rat on your face…" Eugene turned in disgust as the voice of the Captain of the Guard, Sir Walter Hein, shattered his muddling.

"You know, _you_ really should be one to speak sir…" Eugene smirked, crossing the room and raising an eyebrow in jest, "What with the_ dead walrus_ you're spontaneously sprouting there, eh…"

"Rider! Really, you should learn to mind your manners more. You may be pardoned, but I have my eye on you!" His face turned beet red, as he wagged a gloved finger dramatically in the air. Eugene was unmoved. The captain had taken news of the sudden sentence reversal pretty well in context, but the bitterness and astonishment of so many years of dogged dedication to Flynn's capture had left him both lost, and extra rude. To Eugene at least. Perhaps the thief was biased, but anyone greeting his face with less than mere approval surely had a stick up their arse. Old rivalries die hard.

"Well, Sir Heinie, I'd _apologize_, save for the fact I haven't a cause. I do, however, have an inquiry for you" The captain looked miffed, and lock-lipped. Eugene was imitating the lofty speech with a half-raised smirk. "An inquiry involving Rapunzel. The princess?"  
>"I know, Rider, she's your sole card to play anyways, get on with it." Eugene didn't appreciate this as much. He tried to maintain composure.<p>

"How would one manage a chat with the King and Queen?"

"Their royal majesties" he said this with an overtly affected accent, "are_ very_ over-booked at the moment, and even so, would _hardly_ have time for the likes of a fellow like you, I would think. The Coronation Ball is in a few weeks, and Rapunzel shall be the centerpiece and they have so many logistics and…"

"I realize" Eugene cut in swiftly, "and that's exactly the reason why I need them now. Rapunzel is overwhelmed. She needs a new pace and structure, and frankly, some education beyond ladies-in-hating so she can grip the world around her." Captain Hein furrowed his brow at this, still distrustful of Eugene's possible motivations. He fingered his sword carefully as he spoke.

"Education is already being provided for the princess, sir. The finest lessons in etiquette, poise, emotional diplomacy, dance, music and needlepoint."  
>"<em>Needlepoint<em>?" Eugene skeptically interjected.

"Yes, and embroidery. Gives one an eye for detail and an opportunity to catch up on "_palace politics_". To be a good queen, the princess must understand the art of subtlety and manipulation from her peers…"

"Yes, let's just lock her up again, this time in a web of gossip and spite!" He angrily flapped his hands. "Rapunzel has an interest in other things you know! Rocks and stars and animals and... the way a mill moves so carefully to thresh and stomp wheat into grain! And tons of other...stuff." He had been there, watching the joy and concentration on her face as she examined the gears and pulleys of the mill before being whisked again too quickly for something more, something new. A princess may have her place and station, but Rapunzel was more than a mere princess. She was a girl who deserved…freedom. In the fullest capacity.

"I'll draw this sword on you, I swear I will, _stop moving Rider_!" The captain was unable to follow through on the threat, however, as the great mahogany doors creaked out, spilling light into the hallway like liquid gold pouring through a flask. The two men retreat a step away from the other, guilty expressions staining their faces. The king had just entered and looked expectant.

"Captain Hein, what is all this hullabaloo! The tumult and clamor, the conflicted uproar! Is Mr. Fitzherbert causing trouble?" The statuesque man often spoke like a rack of synonyms, Eugene noted. It made even his simplest sentences verbose and falsely deep. Must be an aftereffect of royal insulation.

"Sir, he, _he_…he _started_ it!" the Captain was flush with embarrassment, which gave Eugene an ounce of satisfaction. You didn't see _him_ flustered in front of the king.

"I did nothing of the sort, I was actually here to request a meeting with you, your majesty. Can you spare a moment, perhaps?" The king beamed in reply.

"Naturally, I can make an allowance for the man who rescued my daughter, my kin! Nary could an obstacle prevent such an exchange from occurring. I was just departing to sneak some scrumptious scones from the kitchen behind my wife's back. Perhaps your prowess in former-thievery could facilitate me in this quest! Walk with me, please!" He then set off on a brisk pace, Eugene leaping forward in stride, with Captain Hein puttering a step behind. The tableau was at once comical and musical, each man connected in rapt, fluid attention, with flourishes, gesturing and near collisions with maid-staff and flowerpots around sharp corners. Eugene slipped effortlessly back into his Rider persona of charm and craft.

"Your majesty, I have a proposition…"

"Spit it out, but calmly and without excessive saliva…"

"Yes, well, you may have noted Rapunzel is still on the...erm, cusps of discovering how to deal with the highs and lows of…_people_ and being a princess. I think it's overwhelming her a bit sir, not that she cannot handle the duress, your daughter is an um... _exceptional_ young woman…"

"Enough with the flattery, Mr. Fitzherbert, I actually put weight on your input without the fluffery or superfluous buttering or…"

"Why thank you sir." Eugene had to pause to digest this. The king respected his opinion? Was he serious? No one aside from Rapunzel considered his thoughts without a good deal of manipulation. He pushed the implications of this aside as the Captain continued huffing behind. "My point however, is that Rapunzel…she needs more. She needs education beyond the erm…nuances of the court?" The king stopped suddenly, causing Eugene to nearly fall over and the captain to splat on-towards the carpeted floor, to which he was ignored. The king faced Eugene.

"Are you saying I'm not providing my daughter with the tools and skills she needs? She is surrounded by _luxury_!"

"Luxury isn't enough to find one's way in this world, your majesty." Eugene looked at his toes as he continued. "I know this may not be my place, but Rapunzel feels…confused and beleaguered by the constant wave of people and places and duties. She feels…and I do, as well…that perhaps she should take this whole _"introduction into_ _society_" thing more slowly, with an opportunity to really learn about the things that interest her. She's so smart and curious and... dashing about from hamlet to hamlet pricking at needlepoint is a waste and strain of her abilities, frankly!" Even the captain was quiet now, his wheezing and cursing suspended as the king took a heavy sigh.

"What are you proposing then, Fitzherbert? She can't just _LEAVE_ and attend the _UNIVERSITY_!" The King looked irritated. Eugene gulped.

"Look" he spread his hands in supplication "I just think a tutor or two could help her have more peace and focus. I realize a princess is busy by description, but perhaps we could take this... more slowly? Not only for Rapunzel's sake, but for you and your wife's. How well do you truly know her? Eighteen years and now's your chance to spend some long, quality time together. Unload her schedule, give her a class or too to engage her interests. I think it'll pay off." The king ran a hand through his hair, in an eerie parallel to Rapunzel.

"Perhaps in the excitement of having Rapunzel back, I've…I've…I've forgotten to ask what she wanted. What she needed. I'll take your judgment perhaps this time, Mr. Fitzherbert. I owe you my daughter's life. But I do hope you are not simply _making_ decisions for her, _hmm_?"

Eugene flushed at this. This was for Rapunzel! _She_ wanted this! Didn't she? He pushed this into the recesses of his mind as the king continued.  
>"I'll make some adjustments surely, but her tutelage can't just be you. It'll be someone with credentials, and nobility!"<p>

Eugene breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps now Rapunzel would finally have more time to relax, more time to read or explore the world with him. Yes, Rapunzel as a school girl was very appealing…short skirt, lessons, late nights in his room erm, "_studying_"…

"Someone like Captain Hein!"

"**_WHAT?"_** Eugene and the Captain cried in unison, the latter still sprawled on the floor. The king grinned and trotted off, leaving the bewildered men gaping in the middle of the hall. Eugene groaned, knocking his head against the wall.

"What the hell have I gotten her into?"

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><p><p>

Rapunzel settled on her bedspread, sighing as she sank into the feather-weight, her limbs drained from a day of tedious curtsies, royal waves and arm extensions (for receiving chivalrous kisses, she supposed, although Eugene kissed her in more places than her _hand_.) She hadn't seen a trace of that handsome scoundrel since last night, when he had promised to finally teach her about the world. Not just names of quasi-sanguine relatives and craft projects she could complete in her sleep, but _exciting_ things. Like mermaids. And _trolls._ And perhaps even why all those jokes her friends at the Snuggly Duckling cackle over are so funny, and more importantly, not to be repeated in mixed company. Yes, she had a million questions she was sure only Eugene, not just another tutor or instructor, could answer. Questions that sometimes, lacked even words. Questions that made her warm and shuddery inside, that made her feel a bit more acute.

"Gah, I can't take any more of this patience!" She giggled, peeking at the worn, heavy tome she cradled in her arms.  
>"<em>The Adventures of Flynnigan Rider<em>" she whispered, Pascal peering curiously from the pillow, awake now from his afternoon nap. He yawned, shifting to a mellow shade of pale yellow. "This was Eugene's favorite book, Pascal. It gave him his first dream. Remarkable, right? Moth…_Gothel_ never let me have books like this. Probably because it would have given me "_ideas_"." She blushed at this. "_Eugene_ ideas"

Lately, these Eugene-ideas had become harder to ignore. They gripped her mainly when she was alone, painting or looking at the sunrise melting into the mountains-a comforting sight. Thoughts first of certain things he said, his strong, broad arms and the pleasurable prickles of his facial hair when he nuzzled her neck in particularly relaxing moments. She never had thoughts like these before for Gothel, or Pascal, or the benign characters in the spare collections of novels and guides left back at the tower, tattered and scribbled furiously in. Every time she discovered something new and fantastic and foreign on the outside, it seemed her body was producing a new reaction or emotion or conundrum.

"I'm bubbling over like those volcanoes father mentioned, Pascal. Just _erupting_. Or about to. I wonder if one can predict an eruption?" If one could even predict, chart like the movements of the stars, just when a flower would bloom?

The book slipped from her fingers, softly, as she closed her eyes and breathed ever so deeply. She was in a mood and had time to kill, and as if spurred by an invisible wire, her fingers crept down her ribs, catching on each one with a delightful little flutter. Almost ticklish, but not quite. She moved lower still, her skirts thin today due to the summer scorch, bunched up little-by-little above her raised hipbones, the contours of her stomach. She was spread against skin now and breathing slowly, nestling her hand gently in that spot. That special, oh so special spot. She found relaxation through these motions before, in the tower, from time to time, draped and hidden in her golden hair, nestled in a cocoon of light and softness. For some unspoken reason, she had done so in private-once, Gothel spied her staring and prodding at her private area in a mirror when she was quite, quite young, and became livid and terrifying. Only snippets of the rage remained in Rapunzel's memory, but the furious words of "_disgusting_", "_don't you dare try such filthy actions again_", and "t_here's no need, dear, for you to be exploring yourself. You're safe here,"_ and "_that's just a body part, a functional tool. Nothing more_" and "_wash your hands, again Rapunzel, wash them I say_!" still made her feel ashamed, and slightly vile. She shook her head, as if to fling the admonishments away. Gothel wasn't here right now. She couldn't catch her doing…_whatever_ this was. Her secret, she guessed.

"Oh hmmm" she hummed, drumming her fingers now, faster in pace against the folds, slick and pulsing. She felt completely at ease, clenching and unclenching her thighs as her legs spread wild with abandon, a smile on her lips drawing into a gasp. She was reaching that point, where the vibrations from the friction became peculiar and delicious, when her breathing would grow ragged with some sort of need. "Yes…" she whispered so quietly, so urgently. Eugene's face wafted into her mind and she slipped her fingers inside now, drenched in her release. She had never relaxed with imagery before, but the experience suddenly became more pronounced, more…amazing. She imagined his lips, his embrace, his smell of rain-soil and the soft rumble of his throat, her hand dipping and curling, pressing with exquisite pleasure against her core.

She squeezed tight once, twice, _three_ times against her arm, held in place by her opposing hand, biting the duvet as she suppressed a deep moan. The waves of warmth spread throughout her body and she gasped in arch, then collapsed unto herself, gasping for air as the heat drained from her cheeks and she slowly returned to normal, hair plastered slightly to her forehead as trickles of sweat beaded between her breasts.

"That was lovely…"she sighed again, still tired and woozy. She looked up at the pillow; Pascal was nowhere to be seen. "Pascal? Where did you…oh."

Eugene was standing in the doorway, his eyes wide and milky, his mouth a perpetual "**o**". His hands were trembling, and his knees bent, with Pascal curled up on his shoulder, apparently bored.

Rapunzel dropped her skirts to their proper place, and drew her knees to her chest, eyes downcast, mortified. Had he seen her? What if he were repulsed? Did he ever relax, like she did? Or was this another quirk, another freak habit of her captivity?

"When…" she barely spoke, murmuring "when did you…_you_ get here?"

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><p><strong>Excuse the delay of the update; graduation, prom and finals have been occupying my time more than I planned, and I wanted this story to follow a certain scheme. Hopefully, by the next chapters onward, the mixture of Flynnigan Rider fable with plot continuation will unfold-I just need to study my copies of "Robinson Crusoe" and all those terribly racist Conrad novels that pack in thrills and adventure as tightly as the trees in the jungle of "<em>Heart of Darkness<em>".**

**One aspect I wanted to explore with this story was Rapunzel's sexuality...or rather, the current theme in the fandom of her lacking it in any respect. Children can begin masturbating at very young ages, without knowledge or even sexual connection to the act. I can't see someone as inherently curious and comfortable as Rapunzel _not _have some examples or early forms of explorations as a child. How Gothel impacted that natural inclination however, and stunted or perverted it with her hyperbolic descriptions of the external world and base urges, would account for the real repression of Rapunzel. Everything she knows or understands about sex is either inituitive (and thus, abstract and primal) or filtered through the biased, backwards lens frankly, of her faux-mother. Fascinating possibilities, really.**

**For more reading on childhood sexuality and development, any number of psychology textbooks or parenting guides even, can offer a portal of research. **

**Thank you for your time, and for your lovely reviews. Please, constructive criticism is always welcome XxX**  
><strong>~hippie<strong>


	3. Had a Dream About You, Baby

_All words below are the property of Disney and its subsidaries. No copyright infringement was intended. Thank you._

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><p><strong>"You kiss me baby, in the coffee shop<strong>

**You make me so bad, I tell you to stop**

**But I had a dream about you baby**

**(Dream about you, baby)**

**Last night you come a rollin' across my mind…"**

**~_Had a Dream About You Baby, Bob Dylan_**

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><p>Eugene left abruptly, the captain aimlessly sprawled in his own confusion on the floor. He needed to center his head, weigh the pros and cons, make out with Rapunzel…<em>what<em>? Why was he jumping so quickly to his libido? Sure it relaxed him, but seeing Rapunzel at this moment may elicit unnecessary worry. He had no right to ruin her excitement over classes by painting her potential tutor as a pompous bastard. Except for the niggering fact that he was, _indeed_, a pompous bastard.

"Shit Eugene" he muttered, forehead firmly in hands, "why are you so reasonable all of a sudden? _Flynn was never reasonable_!" He paced for a few minutes, stretching the thoughts in his mind irrationally, between the staircase and a closet, trying to steel himself. He was alarmed by the sudden appearance of a bored Pascal, staring him dead on from a perch on the edge of a torch-hold. What was this little _frog_ doing so far away from Rapunzel's room? Timidly, he grasped the chameleon's tail and placed him on his shoulder, resuming his pacing with vengeance. Perhaps it was the weight of the little guy, or his own confusion, but the musings coalesced finally into a figment of intention, and he felt sure enough to _at least_ congratulate Rapunzel on the success, receive her enthusiastic kisses and regain his macho. Show her he kept his promise. Eugene trotted up the stairs, past the columns casting shadows in the dying light, maidservants and such scuttering down for their meals, their breaks. The bustle soon disappeared, as he climbed to the princess's tower though, the hallway deserted and still, her door cracked open slightly with a twinge of light straining through. As he stepped closer, a slight moan snapped his attention.

A little _hmm_, a little_ oooh_, little noises that made him shiver and clench. Was she…_brushing her hair_? Trying to fall asleep in that adorably painful way she did, how she would rub the heel of her foot against the other an equal number of times, before succumbing to the sand man. That just _killed_ him.

The moaning was a little louder now, as he pushed the door open slightly, trying not to disturb her. Eugene turned to announce himself with mirth when his heart stopped, and his mouth gaped open in shock.

Rapunzel lay, writhing against herself, her hands buried deep between her thighs. It was, all at once, the single most arousing, and yet, most disconcerting sight, he had ever experienced. His little, lithe Rapunzel, all wrapped up in herself, so perfectly pert and innocent and intoxicating. He could never have _dreamed_ he'd find her curled up in a personal cocoon of pleasure. How could she know? Did Gothel…? No, that's just nasty…

Then Rapunzel cooed his name oh so softly, and Eugene nearly melted, his pants constricting tightly around his aching groin. She was thinking of him. Her careful ministrations, explorations…_for him_? No concept of sex, and yet, she somehow could arouse him like nothing else? He gulped.

With a soft cry, she collapsed, a thin veneer of sweat glistening above her pouty lips. He was entranced her breathing, steady little puffs of her chest, loose and sweet.

"That was lovely". She sighed, "Pascal, where did you…oh!" They locked eyes, she whimpered and blushed, as he nervously ran fingers through his hair, trying to mumble out something coherent. What do you say to someone after witnessing something so intimate? What do you say to Rapunzel?

When…" she barely spoke, murmuring "when did you…you get here?" Pascal had since left his shoulder, a bright shade of pink similar to Rapunzel's rosy cheeks, and was hiding in a nook above the armoire. Eugene gulped once more and couldn't find his tongue, merely shrugging like the idiot he was. Rapunzel took once glance at this, and curled deeper into herself, sobbing quietly into her arms.

"I know, I'm sorry Eugene, please forgive me, I shouldn't be doing that, I just had no idea you would be here so…_so_ soon and oh, I didn't hear you and do you…_do you_ still _LOVE_ me, oh…_oh Eugene_!" Without a glance he rushed to her side and pulled her close, enveloping the whimpering girl with his arms, hushing her softly with his breath close to her ear.

"Christ Goldie, please don't cry. Of course I still love you. There was never a moment where I even _questioned_ that love."

"Really?" She sniffed, peering at him with huge, green orbs. "But Gothel…"

"Gothel once again, did not know what she was talking about. You have nothing to be ashamed of. I should have knocked, but that's my error of rudeness, you have every right to your privacy."

She had stopped crying at least, but didn't seem appeased. Eugene just hoped she didn't feel his racing heart, or the stiffness near her leg as she bundled close against him. Had Gothel ever explained to her about a woman's body? She had to talk about…_menstruatio_n, at least. Or did the magic hair avoid all that? Gah, Rapunzel needed her mom for this, but really…masturbation was a topic best found out alone. He blinked, and kissed her lightly on the jaw.

"Rapunzel, I may not be the..._best_...person to tell you this, but…"

"Please Eugene, don't ever be afraid to share things with me. I want to know!" He sighed.

"Okay. Well, what you were…_engaged in_, is…perfectly normal. Most people do it; I reckon, pretty much all people at some point or another, give or take a few exceptions. And it's perfectly natural, and good, and you have nothing to be ashamed over and…"  
>"What?"<br>"Hm?"  
>"Does it have a name? Or is it just…"<em>the feeling<em>"?" Eugene shivered; it did produce quite a feeling, if that's what she was getting at.

"It's called…masturbating. There are other names too, names Snuggly Duckling characters use, but that's like the difference between my butt, my ass and my_ badonkadonk_."

Rapunzel giggled. She had loved all the curse words and nicknames her friends had taught her about body parts. "Many people find, erm…when they…_touch themselves_…they feel pleasure. That it feels good and calms them down."

"And they get the feeling and everything is colorful and fantastic." Rapunzel muttered dreamily. Eugene nodded thoughtfully.

"Yeah, that too I suppose. And it doesn't make you dirty, or impure, as Gothel said. It should however…"He blushed at this. "Be done in private. Not in front of other people. It's personal…like a shower. Or a dream."

"You shared your dream with me though, Eugene."

"I did indeed Goldie. But that's because you're special. And also why…um…I wasn't erm, _offended_ by your…mastur…by seeing you just now." He flushed hotly and stared at the floor. Rapunzel cocked her head, free from his embrace now and cross-legged on the comforter.

"Do you ever get that_ feeling_, Eugene? Or you just one of the exceptions?" He grimaced at this, and for a moment, she look terrified she had ruined the conversation.

"Yes, Rapunzel" He whispered very carefully, his fingers fiddling with his vest. "I get "_the feeling_". Whether by myself, or near you." Rapunzel blushed at this, and looked a-glance, towards the discarded book on the bed. Eugene hoped he hadn't said too much.

"So…um…oh! Well, I got a copy of the book!"  
>"Well done you!" Eugene was ecstatic to change the topic, his pants were far too tight.<p>

"Maybe before dinner, you could read a chapter? Or just the prologue? Teach me a lesson?"  
>Eugene chuckled, picking up the book, and brushing strands of hair out of Rapunzel's eyes.<p>

"Haven't I taught you quite enough for one day?" She beamed and gave him a quick kiss on the nose, lingering close enough to touch.

"You know I'm voracious. Or at least, that's what father told me. " She winked and giggled, delighted at her vocabulary. Eugene was too busy sitting stunned, her charms working their effects on him all too well. Just a few minutes ago he had witnessed her touching herself to his name! Gah, the little minx had no idea how perfectly wonderful and bewitching she was. He shuddered, then pulled her up against the pillows, cradled perfectly under his arm.

"Fine Blondie, but just the introduction. Hate to make us late for the sup." He thumbed through the well-worn tome, lighting up briefly at the childhood memories it evoked. Pascal lumbered over and cradled himself over Eugene's ear, an annoying position but one the chameleon liked. No use squalling now.

"_Hmm_, Eugene, thank you for everything today. I feel so warm and happy." He closed his eyes briefly at her words, sinking into them effortlessly, then jolted himself back to the introduction. She was the reason he kept up with Walter and explaining sex and Pascal clawing at his ear. _She was the reason_.

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><p><p>

_**The Adventures of Flynnigan Rider**: Chapter One: Prologue:_

Across the wild and windy plains,

Beyond the bog-swamps, and Crystal Cave,

A pace from the Dark Woods, a mile from the sea,

Lay a child just born, with a future so brave.

Flynnigan Rider, with blonde locks and square jaw,

Left on a mountainside when nary a day old.

Bundled and dying, when a she-tiger came,

And suckled him warm, away from the cold.

He grew strong and lean, with a tiger's pounce,

A gleam in his eye, and fleet in his feet.

He trawled the forest, was king to his land,

But as he gazed towards the town, he felt incomplete.

A hermit's shack provided him garb,

A pastor's wife, custom and speech

Flynnigan knew, with each step he took

Each person he met had something to teach.

"I know who I am," he'd mutter at night,

"But what of who I will be?"

"Finding yourself, is a difficult task,

Not an answer, but a journey."

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><p>Rapunzel sighed as he closed the first few pages, too tired now for narrative as she settled deeper against his side.<p>

"See, Eugene…even Flynnigan needed to discover himself. Maybe everything we do, is just some form of journey. Whether it's the _feeling,_ or deciding what to learn. Hmm?" Eugene peered down at his beloved with a small smile, amazed at the depth of her perception. He never thought about it. They were all on a journey, always seeking to find themselves. Golly.

"Jeez, Goldie, you're really deep sometimes, you know? Is there an old soul in there I should know about? Hello?" He mock echoed into her ear, the rush of air eliciting a giggle. "Anyone home? Hello!"

"Eugene!" She gasped, squirming over him as she sought relief from his fingers, his voice, their limbs entangled and sprawled into a tickle match. She brushed his groin lightly with her leg, again and again, causing him to groin against her neck. She was babbling now, half in laughter and half in delight, as he pressed his fingers down her back, massaging her spine and shoulder blades with feather touches. He was kissing, nipping at her neck, trying to find the spot that made her gasp, that half-lidded her eyes in bliss. God, he was so happy, he had nearly forgotten Walter…

"Hein." His head popped up, eyes wide, with Rapunzel confused against him.  
>"What dear?"<br>"**DINNNER!"** Came the cry of Rapunzel's housekeeper. Eugene moaned and buried his face again in Rapunzel's hair. He had quite the dinner theatre to attend to.

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><p><strong> AN: Excuse the long delay, I've been beside myself with all the events of graduation and parties and composing speeches. I'll be away on Beach Week in Rehoboth, Delaware starting tomorrow, so I hope this little update satisfies. A huge thank you to all the amazing reviews and story-followers I've recieved in the past few weeks. Your support is overwhelming, and very encouraging, as I prepare to delve deeper into the plot of this story, and begin to parallel the structure of Flynnigan with the reality. Or something like that. We'll see soon enough.<strong>

**Love, Hippie**


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